


Flower of My Soul

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Belladonna Isn't Sure About Marriage., Bungo Loves Belladonna, F/M, Hurt!Nori, Not A Part Of Anything Else, Why Do I Always Have To Do This Sort of Thing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belladonna knows Bungo has been pining for her for quite some time. When he asks to court her, she doesn't know what to say. Yes, she likes him, but is she truly ready for marriage?<br/>She escapes the Shire, promising to return with an answer. On her way to the most peaceful place she knows, she discovers a lone Dwarf,  injured and exhausted.</p>
<p>Well. This was not part of the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower of My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Curse plot bunnies. The idea would not leave me alone. Now, this is not a part of any other series! It's not intended to be, certainly. I hope it's enjoyed :)

It started with the flowers.

Bouquets of pansies, purple lilacs, pink roses, yellow and violet tulips were shyly presented to her and she smiled, gave thanks and placed them in vases around her bedroom. Then came invitations to dinner. She would sit beside him, try her best to make polite conversation with his sharp-eyed mother and  let her eyes drift over  him,  unable to hide a smile when she saw the warmth in his green eyes.

He'd been taking it nice and slowly, which she appreciated, but now she stared in horror at her father and repeated what he'd just said.

"Marriage?!"

"Aye. Asked my permission for your hand."

"And what did you say?"

"Said I'd think on't. What do you think, Bell?"

Belladonna groaned heartily and ran her hands through her springy golden curls. "I... Oh, I don't know, Da.  I  do  love him,  but marriage! I'd be with him _forever_ and there's so much more to see and do before settling down."

"Maybe you could take him along?" Gerontius suggested.

She thought  about Bungo stumbling through the woods, glancing up at the sky, cautiously entering a cave  and  shook  her  head. "No. A Baggins is most comfortable at home, a Took is most comfortable wandering about."

Gerontius nodded in agreement. "Can't argue with that, love."

She sighed heavily and sat on the arm of her father's chair. "Why'd he have to ask about marriage?" she asked crossly. "Things were going so well!"

Gerontius chuckled and patted his daughter's hand. "Oh, dear. He loves you, Bell. At least  he  took time with it. I asked your mam to marry me the second I saw her!"

Belladonna laughed. "I do love him. I just don't know whether I can marry him yet. You know how quickly weddings come."

Gerontius nodded. "Oh, I do. And then babies follow and there's less chance of venturing then."

"Da, what would you do?"

"I've never had a fellow want to marry me."

"You know what I meant, you daft  codger!"

"I'd go somewhere quiet, somewhere peaceful and think about it."

"With nobody asking, 'What will you say?' all the time."

"Aye." Gerontius staggered to his feet and stretched. "Gods above and below, look at the time. Go on and sleep on it, Bell."

Belladonna kissed his cheek. "Night, Da."

He gave her a quick hug. "Same to you, my girl. Sleep well."

* * *

She did not sleep well. Images of herself in a white dress, the pink flower of which she was named pinned behind her ear, clutching a bunch of red roses and standing next to Bungo swam through her mind. She lay spread-eagled on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. 

In no way was she ready to become Mrs.Bungo Baggins, but she did want to marry someday and have children. But once she got engaged, she knew her in-laws and her own family would start pushing and pushing for them to marry and produce heirs quickly. She was 36 years old, young enough to produce plenty of children and run about after them, but she wasn't ready for motherhood either.

She turned on her side  and  turned the oil lamp on, flooding the room  with  soft,  warm  light.  Her  eyes  picked  out  her  backpack  and  she  smiled  to  herself.

It was time for one more venture.

Silently jumping  from  her  bed,  she  padded  to  her  wardrobe  and  opened  it. Removing several blouses, she flung  them  to  her  bed  and  bent  to  slide  open  the drawers,  quietly  to  avoid  disturbing  her  sisters and brother. She soon discovered her breeches, stolen from Hildibrand her older brother, now married himself. They were  too wide for her, but she owned suspenders  which  she  located in  time.  
Hoisting  up  her  pack,  she  walked  back  to  her  bed  and  opened  it  to  see whether she'd left anything inside. She found something, a single deep purple ribbon which she got out and tied her hair back with. 

Getting dressed,   she  wondered  about  bringing  a  dress with her, and  decided  to.  Sometimes the breeches could get uncomfortable. Ripping  an  old violet one  from  the  wardrobe,  she folded it and shoved it inside along with her blouses and underclothes. The bedroll was still attached  to  it  and  she  found  her red cloak  stowed  away  inside the  wardrobe  doors  and  fastened  it  around her   shoulders.

Basics taken care of, she hunted around for other necessities.

Hairbrush.

Spare ribbon.

Hood.

Scarf.

Knife.

Water-skin.

Purse.

Satisfied with her load, she hastily put things back into order and glanced around her bedroom  one  more  time.  Spotting one of her many vases, she plucked a flower from it. A pink rose, sweet and exquisite. She pressed it to her nose, exhaling its scent and then added it to her pack.

* * *

 

The last place she needed to visit was the kitchen. Putting her pack on the kitchen table, she went to the pantry to extract what she needed. She preferred travelling lightly, but hunting didn't always work out the way she wished it to and she always stocked up on what she would need before going.  Hastily stuffing small fruits and vegetables into the pockets adorning her pack, she went to the water jug and filled her waterskin as full as it could be and grabbed an apple to offer one of their ponies in exchange for his strength to carry her on her journey.

Stepping outside their red door,  she  carefully shut and locked it before pushing the key underneath the door and  then  stared toward their stables which contained three ponies and squared her small shoulders.

It was time to go.


End file.
